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I am losing faith in Bruce Springsteen’s authenticity.
Last week, I watched the video for “Pay Me My Money Down,” a traditional song that Springsteen extended and recorded for his 2006 album, “We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions.” One of the lyrics that Springsteen added was, “Well I wish I was Mr. Gates / Carry all that money in ‘em crates.”
An educated guess led me to believe that the Mr. Gates in question is Bill Gates, the American poster-boy for all things wealthy. A short analysis led me to believe that Springsteen would sing this lyric for one of two reasons. One, the millions of dollars he has earned as a recording artist are not enough to quench his thirst for Scrooge McDuck-like riches, or two, the New Jersey native knows that his working class fan base can appreciate pipe dream-lyrics about vast wealth. Let’s give Mr. Springsteen the benefit of the doubt and assume he does not aspire to swim in a pool of gold coins.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Boss, Bruce Springsteen is the open shirt, sideburn-wearing Jersey boy who sings about hometown sports, getting laid under the Exxon light and shaking off his manager on a Friday night. Springsteen built his career on singing about problems faced by the American working stiff. This is why I began to lose my faith.
Bruce Springsteen is a world-famous singer and songwriter. It’s safe to say he hasn’t worked a day since he signed to Columbia Records in the early 1970s. How authentic can lyrics about the working class be if a millionaire rock star wrote them? My first reaction is that it’s not authentic at all. A platinum-selling recording artist has no place singing about dreams of wealth and success. When Springsteen wishes for success, it’s as authentic as Neil Armstrong wishing he could walk on the moon. I’d be damned to hear some silver spooned-phony describe my hopes and dreams. A songwriter’s lyrics should be a personal catharsis. They should spill his innermost demons, not pander to his audience.
There’s a word itching at my typing fingers. The word was used to describe Metallica when they shed their thrash metal manes. The same word is currently used by hipster-trash to describe bands that escape obscurity. In a world where music is an industry and success is usually synonymous with wealth, it isn’t fair to use this word. It also isn’t fair for me to call the Boss a “silver spoon-phony.”
Bruce Springsteen spent the first 24 years of his life as a working stiff before he signed to a music label. I’ll bet a lot of those years were spent unhooking bras in the backseat of a Chevy and schlepping crates around a warehouse. Bruce’s roots were planted in blue collar Jersey soil. By continuing to write songs for the working class, they remain there.
Scratch my first reaction. There’s nothing disingenuous about Bruce Springsteen singing “Pay Me My Money Down.” Bruce has been there. It is the job of the songwriter to provide a catharsis for his audience, not for himself. If the lyrics are personal, great, the writer gets to spill his guts and sell millions of albums. A songwriter’s lyrics are genuine as long as his audience feels they are. If the Boss is able to capture the anguish, dread and hope of the working class, he’s doing his job right. It doesn’t matter if he captured it from a five-star hotel room or a coffee-stained break room.
Travis Bourassa is a senior communications student.
